The Only Way Around Is Through.

A Man Has Got To Keep His Extrication. The Important Thing Is Not To Get Bogged Down In What He Has To Do To Earn A Living.

O Hushed October Morning Mild, Begin The Hours Of This Day Slow, Make The Day Seem To Us Less Brief... Retard The Sun With Gentle Mist; Enchant The Land With Amethyst.

That Day She Put Our Heads Together, Fate Had Her Imagination About Her, Your Head So Much Concerned With Outer, Mine With Inner, Weather.

The Only Certain Freedom's In Departure.

Poetry Begins In Trivial Metaphors, Pretty Metaphors, "grace" Metaphors, And Goes On To The Profoundest Thinking That We Have. Poetry Provides The One Permissible Way Of Saying One Thing And Meaning Another. People Say, "why Don’t You Say What You Mean?" We Never Do That, Do We, Being All Of Us Too Much Poets. We Like To Talk In Parables And In Hints And In Indirections - Whether From Diffidence Or Some Other Instinct.